“_Hast thou named all the birds without a gun? Loved the wild rose and left it on its stalk? At rich men’s tables eaten bread and pulse? Unarmed, faced danger with a heart of trust? And loved so well a high behavior, In man or maid, that thou from speech refrained, Nobility more nobly to repay? Oh, be my friend, and teach me to be thine!_” EMERSON. XIII. Who nearer Nature’s life would truly come Must nearest come to him of whom I speak; He all kinds knew,--the vocal and the dumb; Masterful in genius was he, and unique, Patient, sagacious, tender, frolicsome. This Concord Pan would oft his whistle take, And forth from wood and fen, field, hill, and lake, Trooping around him, in their several guise, The shy inhabitants their haunts forsake: Then he, like Esop, man would satirize, Hold up the image wild to clearest view Of undiscerning manhood’s puzzled eyes, And mocking say, “Lo! mirrors here for you: Be true as these, if ye would be more wise.” “_The happy man who lived content With his own town and continent, Whose chiding stream its banks did curb As ocean circumscribes its orb, Round which, when he his walks did take, Thought he performed far more than Drake: For other lands he took less thought, Than this his Muse and landscape brought._” EVELYN. XIV. Much do they wrong our Henry, wise and kind, Morose who name thee, cynical to men, Forsaking manners civil and refined To build thyself in Walden woods a den,-- Then flout society, flatter the rude hind. We better knew thee, loyal citizen! Thou, friendship’s all-adventuring pioneer, Civility itself didst civilize: Whilst braggart boors, wavering ’twixt rage and fear, Slave hearths lay waste, and Indian huts surprise, And swift the Martyr’s gibbet would uprear: Thou hail’dst him great whose valorous emprise Orion’s blazing belt dimmed in the sky,-- Then bowed thy unrepining head to die. “_Happy art thou whom God doth bless With the full choice of thine own happiness; And happier yet, because thou’rt blest With prudence how to choose the best: In books and gardens thou hast placed aright-- Things well which thou dost understand, And both dost make with thy laborious hand-- Thy noble, innocent delight._ * * * * * _Methinks I see great Diocletian walk In the Salonian gardens noble shade, Which by his own imperial hands was made; I see him smile, methinks, as he does talk With the ambassadors, who come in vain To entice him to a throne again._” COWLEY’S ODE TO EVELYN. XV.